I am the richest man in the world... The story about me in Myanmar.

Cris you are the richest man in the world…

That is what she said when we ended lunch. Or at least something similar… It doesn’t matter in the end though. It is what she meant what counts.

A cold Saturday back in the Netherlands and she finally gave me the words that I needed to start writing again. I has been a while since my last decent story. But that is okay. It was a busy time.

Just returned back form Myanmar photographing one of the most beautiful things I have ever experienced. What a trip…

I left…

*Note: Some photographs, and people I want to thank at the bottom.*

At the beginning of October I left the Netherlands to go on my adventure. Objective of the adventure: Try to tell the story of the indigenous tribes in Myanmar and how they deal with modern times.

First a small stop in Bangkok and from Bangkok I flew to Yangon, Myanmar. Too many airports, especially because I was traveling with a ton of film. But luckily all of the customs where so nice. Especially in Asia. They noticed me standing in line with my big see through bags full of film and my film was hand checked as soon as I got through customs myself. The airport in France on the other hand… They need to work on their manners a bit… But that is story is for another time… CDG, you suck.

In Bangkok I stocked up on even some more film and I was ready to go. For the people that are interested in what cameras I brought. It was my trusty Nikon FM2n and a old Yashica Mat 124G. As a back-up I brought my Nikon D810. A digital one. But that camera has never left my bag. My mind was determent this was going to be a analog only trip. If they could do it in the old days, it could be done now. And so I did.

Arriving in Yangon…

My arrival could have gone better. As soon as I got in the taxi I started feeling sick… What could it be… I never get sick… I shared the taxi with a girl which I have met at the airport and I tried to keep myself in order. Cracked open the window to get some fresh air, but with all the rain and thunder going on it was not the smartest of ideas.

As soon as I arrived in my hostel the food poisoning which I apparently had, kicked into fifth gear. Locking myself up in the toilet was the only option. Too bad the hostel turned off the water right at that exact moment.

Fuck.

Preparing for my last leg…

After being knocked off my feet for almost two days I got outside to get some fresh air and bought some Royal D. That is some sort of electrolyte drink and I needed that. I was so dehydrated… What I didn’t need was to be in a bumpy bus later that day, but I had no choice. I had to. Loikaw was up, and I just really wanted to go there. My final destination.

Luckily I met a super cool guy in the bus. And what do you know. I ran into him on the way back too.

The country had so many similarities to all the other countries I have been… And as soon as I arrived at the bus station right outside of the city it immediately felt like I was in Iran.

The whole country for me was the perfect combination of the kindness of the people of Iran, the amazing food of Vietnam, and the energy of the streets of India…

Beautiful…

Faith and a doorway to a store full of Longyi…

There she was. Standing in the doorway of a shop that sold longyis. A super big smile on her face, and so on mine. A split second was only needed before we recognized each other.

Victoria…

One of the beautiful souls that helped me so much on my way. Without her… I think most of my project would have failed. Or at least more difficult.

Professional photographer!!! it sounded!

Aaaaaaaah Victoria! So good to finally see you for real!

We exchanged a lot of messages over WhatsApp before my arrival and how she could have be of help. I ended up at random at one of her stores. I just went for a stroll to check out the city and stretch my legs, so faith decided I would meet her immediately without even texting her.

I love faith.

Me and the Chinese motorbike…

As stubborn sometimes I can be the first day I got myself a Chinese motorbike. Victoria warned me not to take that one. But me being Dutch and wanting to save money made me decide to take that one.

My ass did not thank me for that decision…

I took the motorcycle to drive to one of the first villages. It is not allowed to stay in the villages overnight, which I think is a really good thing. So the plan was to drive every morning to at least one of them and drive back before sunset.

But as unpredictable as life is… So was the rest of my journey…

Let me tell you about Moly…

Hair braided and hanging to the side with an umbrella in hand she walked towards me and asked me: Are you Cris?

The only thing I could think was she was like a beautiful young princess that could have walked right out of a Disney movie. Young and and early in her twenties I noticed she was the only one wearing western style dress…

Yes yes… I am Cris! I answered…

You must be Moly?

Moly was my interpreter in the village. I was so happy I immediately ran into her. This because after enjoying the beautiful landscapes of Myanmar I got lost, and it started to rain like Odin cried his heart out. The poncho I brought did it’s job perfectly. Camera dry, and my body too. My feet not so much, and so weren’t my glasses.

An interpreter is needed because all of the villages of the indigenous people around the country of Myanmar have their own language.

We were standing in the middle of the road, a soccer match to the left, a garrison of armed soldiers on the right. And us discussing what my plan was for the day and maybe the days later, and was I was to expect.

She hopped on the back of my Chinese motorbike the same way an amazon warrior does and told me to drive out of the village to one further away…

And so we drove…

Mulon…

I was honored to meet and have a talk with Mulon… She was one of the grandmothers of the village. She was cooking rice and preparing food for the community so Moly and I joined her for the cooking.

But what do you talk about?

I mean I am sort of good in conversation. And I have seen a lot in my life… But if you arrive finally at the place you have been preparing for, for a long time. And also, let’s be honest, seeing an old but beautiful woman with a neck almost twice the size as mine, I mean… That made me a little bit lost for words.

But after a short while the first jokes were cracked. And in the end we talked about everything that life is about.

The beauty is. And I think one of lessons you always learn no matter where you go in the world. We have more in common than we think, and we all long for the same things in life…

We ended with a portrait session…

Evil spirits…

I said goodbye to Moly for the day and made plans to return upcoming days. Because in an instant, this place already captured my heart.

Victoria made sure I was going to other places. Thank god for Victoria. I think I almost would have lived there already. So good of her that she kicked my ass into gear. Also she got me a way better motorbike.

So one of the mornings I went to the farthest place away… It was a three hour ride over mountain roads that were not always that good anymore. So a driver was needed. To share costs I joined a Spanish blogger, Manuela. And two young vibrant Burmese women, Sandar and Marina.

I cannot describe where we ended up in but it was so amazing. I think it was way to describe all of the times I arrived at a new places.

Manuela was put into traditional clothing, and off we went to the courtyard of a house in the middle of the village.

Pot and pans everywhere. A dead pig in some burning bushes. And than it started…

There was some commotion…

A rifle shot…

Playing of drums began…

The shaman was doing his ceremony with spear and shield, walking on the beat of the drum. And on some of the drum beats, more rifle fire.

They were old rifles… So old and bent, I think if you want to go out and shoot something with it you will probably hit yourself in the foot. Or any other place other than the target.

But that is okay. For the ceremony it did exactly what it had to do…

The shaman was doing all of this to get the evil spirits away from the house. Catch them. Put them in a basket with some bamboo strips and chicken bones. And bury it outside of the village where they can do no to anyone.

At one moment more rice wine…

My stomach still wasn’t settled but I drank it anyway. I mean, you only live once… And I actually quite like it. And luckily it is without alcohol I learned later. That’s a good thing… Because a couple of days later on my birthday I drank a lot more!

Fuck, it’s my birthday…

My phone started ringing early in the morning… It was Victoria.

Happpppppppyyyy Biiirrtthhdaayyy Crrriiiissss!!!

She remembered and she was actually the first one to congratulate me. Later that day she was also responsible for one of the three times I celebrated it.

I never celebrate it like a normal Dutch person does. I like it and don’t like it at the same time. I always try to be away but with Victoria around there was no escaping it.

But I had to put some clothes on… Super excited. Because I was going back to the first village and meet up with Moly and her grandmother.

Moly’s grandmother was not alone. She brought her best friend… Phaw…

For my birthday we went to their favorite place. A rice field somewhere in the mountains. It was quite the walk, but those two grandmothers walked like the wind. 78 and 74 years old but so strong and agile.

At one point we ran into a cow herder and he asked Moly where they hid me. This because I was so big in comparison to the locals and it is not allowed to stay there overnight. I had to laugh. In the Netherlands I am just normal… At least my length. My body is still that of an Olympic Weightlifter.

Soul Sisters…

They told me some amazing stories during the walk. The one I remember most vividly is that of when they were young they both had the dream of marrying a boy from the same village so they can stay together forever. And so they did… Still together as best friends in the same village…

Well if that isn’t the most beautiful and romantic story you have ever heard I just don’t know anymore…

True soul sisters and they found a way to stay together trough all of the difficult times and conflict the country has known…

The rest of the day we spend on the porch and drank some rice wine. Moly has secretly gotten me a gift gift for my birthday. A handmade scarf she made herself. It is just a gem. But what she didn’t realize, is that spending my day with her, having lunch with her family, drinking wine was the best gift I could ever have…

Even when the little kids asked me if I was in an accident because my entire body was covered in Thanaka. I was completely sunburned by now. And it was the only thing that helped.

I had to laugh a bit.

No I am fine haha. It is just a sunburn.

Time passes on…

Like I always say… Time is the most precious commodity in the world. It can’t be stopped or bought… And you can only spend it once…

That makes the rest of the day even more special. Victoria showed up at the restaurant with the biggest birthday cake I have ever had. Literally I never had such a big one! My name was on it and even a camera. How in the name of god could she have fixed that so quickly!

Time can maybe never be stopped. But these are memories I will forever carry with me…

End of my main objective…

The rest of my remainder of my time I continued photographing as much I could find of the local villages and there was gas in my motorbike. I you have any clue how difficult that is. Normal street photography rules don’t apply if you step into a different world. Not if you want to tell their real story and to be honorable about your work at the same time. Photographs are always given…

The story is also far from over…

Villages with dragon hats, got stung by a bee in my eye, got lost again…

But at one point I had to travel back…

Back to the biggest city of the country…

Back to the former capital…

I shed a little tear when I said goodbye and off I went, back into the night bus…

But it was not all bad. Met up with Sandar again and also gave me a birthday present and took me out for dinner. My third birthday party!!!

Had some amazing conversations with Natalia which I have also met in Yangon. And also Tyler my beer guzzling Australian buddy.

Time to relax after. After all my Holiday sort of started now I was done…

So Cris, will you ever come to the “you are the richest man in the world” part?

I will no worries…

If you have made it this far you have sincerely earned it…

Thank you for that…

The story so far sounds amazing. And honestly by itself it is a once in a lifetime experience. And I could already measure my richness in just this trip. But you probably have discovered that richness for me is not in money…

One of the topics discussed during the lunch is also being proud of who you are and that it is allowed to let it be part of your story… And also that it is allowed to be proud of yourself.

If I look at my life in retrospect I have plenty to be proud of and not in an arrogant kind of way. But I have never stood still for real about that. I mean I know it, but I also know nothing more than grinding… Working hard… Because in my monkey mind that is the only way to achieve my dreams…

My dad dying…

So let me tell you a little bit about myself…

My dad dying was and is still a big reason why I do what I do. Maybe it is also my souls path. But still…

I was only three years old when it happened but thinking of it now makes me remember his funeral very vividly… His coffin, how hard I cried, and the people I sought comfort with.

After my dad died my stepfather did something so atrocious to one of my family members we had to run away in an instant and were literally without a home for a while…

Of course sleeping at your grandparents and uncle at one point is still a roof. But still it’s not a good and healthy way to grow up.

When our family has been through many court sessions and other things we finally found a place for ourselves in the worst neighborhood of the city I lived in.

Waking up from gunshots… Stepping over junkies in the morning to grab my bike to go to school… No money…

The mailman even got beat up. And my gym owner learned me how to shave.

Growing up like that with literally nothing. I was so driven to make most of my life. That of course came with a shitload of mistakes. But the drive was always there. Working, training hard, studying. All at the same time. Too bad days only contained 24 hours… I made myself a promise to escape that life if it was the last thing I did.

And so I did…

I did so many things I am proud of but these are the ones I want to mention.

I achieved something later in age in Olympic Weightlifting I thought I would never do when I picked up my first barbell when I was fifteen.

And became an successful IT engineer at one of the best companies in my country. The same company also gave me the opportunity to follow my dreams to become a photographer and work part time for them.

Even learned to play three instruments and played in an awesome metal band and did some awesome shows.

And now, traveling the world…

With my camera…

As a storyteller, meeting nothing but beautiful souls along the way…

How in gods name can I not be the richest man in the world?…

~ Cristian

Some special mentions I have to make after this story. And if I forgot you. Don’t worry. You are indeed in my heart.

Victoria. Moly. Sandar. Natalia. Sai Arkar Min Tun. William. Marina. Manuela. Stephan. Leonard. Kaitlin. Nick. Lukas. Tyler. Luiza. James. Batman. Sky… My friends back-home. Tino & Alina. Wing. Eelco.

Without you nothing of this was possible.

*Note: Some photographs below. Working on these kind of projects is hard and is not free despite it is super cool to do. And also shooting analog makes it even more expensive and difficult. I still have to work on the side you know… I know my art is not affordable for everyone but there are so many way to support me. Share my name. Share a post or article. Buy a digital print which is cheaper. The options are endless. But please do not distribute my photographs without my consent. In the end when I have developed everything and the editing process will be done it will be up as a project and some handmade, high-end fine art prints will also be available.*

Some phone snaps…

Andante - Portrait series of the soul. No 2. - Reham

Andante…

Or in other words… Slow…

A musical term that means slow. And also the name of my portrait series.

I found it on the cover of an vinyl LP record I inherited from my father and the music on it was exactly how I felt. And even represents a side of me. Of course I have a happy side. But my other one is full of romance, love, sadness and melancholy. I embraced it and love it very much.

The name: Symphonie Espagnole, Op. 21 IV. Andante.

I wrote about it in an earlier blog post which you can find here.

Time…

For me it represents time… When you are doing something you like or love and are having a good time it flies by, and when you are going through hardship or have to wait for something it goes as slow as it can be. But time is only to spend once…

That’s why it is so valuable.

Reham…

This portrait series I just want to do by gut feeling. And that is how I choose the person I ask to photograph. I was thinking for a long time about whom I could make my second part of the series with. Than at one moment, I woke up in the morning I was thinking about Reham. I knew I wanted to photograph her for a long time but the puzzle pieces never connected until now.

Reham is a beautiful young soul of Palestinian descent that was born in Syria as a refugee but was unable to reuturn home. From Syria she went to Dubai, Lebanon, Egypt, and Turkey, before eventually ending up here in the Netherlands. Now studying computer science at one of the best universities of our country.

She is one smart cookie.

I’ve met her during a diner named “Diner voor gelukzoekers“ (Diner for fortune seekers) a couple of years a go hosted by Roos. The woman in the first version of this series. Everything is connected.

My process….

So how does that translate to my photography? Well… As you can see in the first one. It is full of people passing by as souls. And in this one… Trying to capture it. This through a medium of analog film instead of digital. A slower process of manual focusing and metering and developing it myself. Also, during that slowness I wanted to capture more…

I wanted to capture her power!

Her heart.

And eventually her soul…

A young powerful woman that is youthful and experienced at the same time. So after a couple of hours wandering through her hometown I think we succeeded. And during the editing process I ended up with four frames which I thought that would show everything perfectly.

What EI I shot it at or which film I used is not important. Except maybe that I always use Ilford for everything. With some exceptions of course. Other than that giving someone a safe space to open up is way more important.

The rest is not only film chemistry, but chemistry between you and the soul you are photographing.

So hereby…

So hereby. My second part of Andante - Portrait series of the soul.

- Cristian

Women's March 2019

Hey everyone!

Last Saturday I walked alongside thousands of inspirational women and men who support their cause for equal rights and so much more!

Of course I brought my camera’s and documented the day. Shot some digital. And shot some analog. And the scanning is still not done yet. But here is what I can share at this moment. And when the scanning is done I will either update this post or make a new one.

Hopefully my photographs can be of assistance to the path of equality…

- Cristian

Finally my Iran work in physical form! Souls of Iran as a Zine!

Dear friends!

I was so busy with everything that I forgot to wright a blog post. And to tell you all a super exciting update!

My Souls of Iran work is now available as a two part Zine!

I am so happy with this. I can't describe it into words. But I will try it anyway haha.

And yes, I know I know, I should write more... I'm working on that!

I wanted to to make a book at first. But I got really inspired by a special about zines. Or zeenes...

The origin of Zines is rooted in Sc-Fi, Punk, and Photography sub-cultures. It was, and is used to self publish their work or their own ideas and spread them around there scene or the world.

And with me being a photographer and still have a lot of rebel in me left from when I was a little Cris, it seemed like a better idea.

The book was actually already done. The spell check was back, had some people look it over and review it whom I hold in high regard. And I was good to go!

Until I was watching a episode of Ted Forbes's YouTube channel "The art of Photography"... Btw, if you are really into photography it is a awesome channel to follow. It brings the art back into photography.

Anyway! I was so inspired! So I decided to sort of re-work it into a Zine format.

Making a version of a4 size paper stapled together was maybe a bit to rebellious for the way I wanted to present my photographic work from Iran I decided to go with the most used self publishing service out there named blurb. Blurb is a very cool platform for everyone who is trying to get his or her work out there and offers incredible quality and services.

I also made the creative decision to split my work up into two parts. Isfahan & Shiraz, and Yazd & Tehran. It seemed more fitting. And that way I think the focus is more on the photographs instead of the volume of pages.

And in this day and age I think that was the best fitting way to present it. Everything is already in bulk. If for example you look at Instagram. I don't now how long people look at a photograph. But it is way to short... I guess that is the reason why I like physical prints so much. You have something real...

Another factor was price.

My fine art prints are expensive as they are. They are of course worth every euro. But it is still a fair amount of money. And I wanted to make something that is more accessible for everyone. A book would cost around 70,- euros. And the Zines are 20,- and 15,- euros. So that is a big difference.

Small side-note. Every cent and euro make it possible for me to continue my photographic journey and tell the story world. And makes new future projects possible. So it is a big support!

The end result you can see below. And yes, it makes me very proud!

Like I said before. It feels good to see your work in physical form. And hopefully all of you like it just as much as I do!

If you are interested you can order it through here or just click on the shop and than Zines menu item.

The importance of printing your work...

The doorbell rang..

I did not expect anything. But still... In the back of my mind I hoped it would be something I was waiting for... And hot damn... It was!

The delivery man had a huge safety box! After I dragged it to my apartment I was finally able to open it... And each layer I removed I was getting me happier and happier...

I can not describe fully how cool it is to hold your own work in your hands in physical form.

Normally in this day and age most of the images we create we only see digital. But at least for me, it loses a lot of it's charm. For me it is in the same ballpark as listening to a record. Or reading a real book. Only times a hundred. If you could stare to a image for hours and lose yourself in it, you know you are on the right track. And with printing, it gets you there...

I guess that is why art is meant to be experienced for real. And just on you computer screen or phone.

Printing also has other benefits. Besides it is freaking awesome! You will think about the details more. And how you will shoot next time. There is a whole process involved before you can actually send it to the printer....

What kind of size do I want? What kind of paper do I need? You have to order some samples because you will see your image transform before your eyes as soon as you put it behind glass...

How do I need to deliver my files? What kind of frame do I want? And also you have to account for your passe-partout. Don't know the english word for that, so you will have to forgive me. It is the big ass white are black border around your image.

And than also other important stuff. What is the purpose of a image? Are you going to sell it? And the most difficult, what is the price of your product going to be?

Am I there yet?

Probably not... But I will think of stuff later. And otherwise maybe you will...

For this series I have used Hahnmühle paper. And even within this brand, there are lost of sub choices to be made. So how do you want to present your work? Is it going to be a larger than life print? You will be needing to make those kind of choices to proceed. The higher end you want to deliver the higher end and maybe even thicker paper.

If it were black and white images it probably would have been Ilford.

But that is not the only choices you have in the sub-choice. Every kind of paper structure will influence the way the ink enters the paper and give it a different feel...

Fuck... Are you getting dizzy yet?

There are so many factors to consider to print your work! But, I guess photography is all about the details. And the better you want to get, the better you are going to look for those details... And the more driven you will be...

And in the end actually it does not matter anyway. Strange huh?

Here is why:

Because you rule!

It does not matter if you are a amateur or a high end pro. Printing your work is also very simple. Because it is just awesome to do!

You! You as a person decided that was your one decisive moment that you chose to print. And you are going to be as happy as a child anyway. And you should be fucking proud of yourself!

Until next time...

- Cristian